Trade
by Empathist
Summary: A single-chapter story from the point of view of Sean, who was hired by Brendan Brady to pose as his boyfriend and to split up Stephen and Noah. I've listed Stephen as a character, but be warned, we don't see much of him.


I was surprised when my mobile rang and his name came up on the screen. I'd only met him twice, and the last time was a couple of months before, but his accent and the way he growled my name gave me a bit of a shiver. Brendan was memorable, see.

There were no pleasantries, no _How have you been?_ or _Remember me?_ He was straight down to business, asking if I fancied earning a few hundred quid for an evening's work. I hadn't expected that, to be honest. I mean, don't get me wrong, I do stuff for money – plenty of stuff – and he must have worked that out for himself. It's just that those times with him, I'd been off duty, and if he wanted a repeat performance, he wouldn't have to pay for it. Hell no.

Anyway, it turned out it was something different he wanted me to do: he wanted me to pretend to be his boyfriend. I laughed when he said that, cos I thought for a minute he meant he wanted the boyfriend experience. Bit of a niche in the escort trade, that is – I've done it a couple of times. The guy wants to take you on a date, act like you're a couple, hold hands in a restaurant or at the cinema. One poor sod wanted me to sit with him on his sofa all evening and watch the telly; he didn't want to fuck, he took me to bed to _sleep_. Sad, right? But that wasn't what Brendan was after. He said it was about making someone jealous.

I've got to say, I was intrigued, so I said yes and he told me to meet him at a hotel in Chester. I threw some clothes in a bag, and drove down from Liverpool straight away.

I got to the hotel bar before Brendan, and it was weird, I was nervous waiting for him. You wouldn't think someone in my game would feel like that, would you? And you'd be right, if he'd been a punter, but that wasn't what he was. And there was something about him that made me jumpy, but yeah, excited.

He arrived, bought me a coffee, got himself a tea; moved us to a table in a corner at the back; sat next to me instead of opposite. Told me I looked well. Looked at me pretty intensely, I've got to say: my face, my body. Then he started talking.

There was a couple he wanted to split up. Brendan said it was because this guy called Noah was bad for the other one, Stephen, and he wanted to make Stephen see what Noah was really like. I asked Brendan what was in it for him. It seemed to me it was a lot of trouble to go to: there had to be more to it than he was telling me. He got twitchy – I mean, really uncomfortable – and said I didn't need to know, but reading between the lines, jealousy was the key. He wanted to make this Stephen guy jealous, but that's not what I mean: it was Brendan's jealousy that was behind it all, he was eaten up with it. I didn't ask him any more. I'd had a wee taste of his anger when I'd been with him last time, and I didn't want to push him.

We went through the practicalities, the when and where; he gave me some tips about Noah's personality, what his weak spots were. My job was twofold, see: make one lad jealous, and seduce the other. All in a day's work.

Brendan gave me fifty quid up front, and told me to get a haircut. Neat, it had to be, and short at the sides. He gave me the address of this club of his, told me to be there at six-thirty prompt; gave my shoulder a squeeze, and left.

I booked into the hotel. Brendan couldn't put me up for the night, that was obvious, and I'd be drinking so I wouldn't be able to drive home that night. Anyway, I might have ended up liking this Noah and wanting somewhere to bring him back to. Besides, Brendan was paying.

:::::::

By the time I'd got my hair cut and had a shower and got dressed, it was time to go; I drove down to Hollyoaks, parked up where Brendan had suggested, and walked into the club dead on half six. See, I got everything right that night, to the letter. That's why it pissed me off when he knocked a hundred off my fee. That's why I did what I did the next day.

Anyhow, when I got there, Brendan spotted me straight away and took me into this little office off one side of the bar. He was nervy, kept asking me if I was sure I knew what I had to do. I said _Yeah, relax_. He had his sleeves pushed up – he looked hot as hell, did I mention? – and I stroked his forearm, just in a reassuring way, but he flinched and looked at me like I was shit. I should've taken notice of that, I guess.

The club was busy for that time of night. He grabbed us a seat and went up to the bar, then came back and sat down. One of the staff came over with a bottle of champagne and four glasses. Brendan poured us one each; he'd already had a whiskey or two, I could smell it on him. His eyes kept darting to the staircase, and I could tell when the boys arrived by the tension in him. He let them get to the bar, told me which was which. And you know what? It made sense all of a sudden, why he'd picked me for this job – why he'd picked me, come to that, back at the beginning of April when he first set eyes on me: I was a bloody Stephen clone. Jesus, Brendan really had it bad.

The boys were talking, and Brendan led me across the floor and introduced us. _Ladies, I'd like you to meet Sean. Thought we'd make this a foursome_. He put his arm around me. _This is Noah, and this_ – he paused and smiled at the other guy, who looked half furious and half desolate – _is Stephen_. Stephen came to, and switched his eyes back to me: _It's Ste_.

I don't think he liked me very much.

As we walked back to our seats, I said to Brendan that it was pretty much job done with making Ste jealous: you should've seen his face when Brendan introduced us. I guessed he'd never seen Brendan with another man before. Obviously, the two of them had a history together, and I reckon it must have been an on/off thing for a while, seeing as Brendan had already been on the prowl for a lookalike to console himself with, nearly four months before.

It was pretty awkward, the four of us sat together. I've got to admit, I found it hilarious: Brendan having digs at Noah because he despised him, and Noah the same back to him. Ste trying to be grown up, but hating every second, and ending up bitching at all three of us. Brendan making remarks designed to hurt Ste, but not because he despised him: it was plain, at least to me, that it was because he loved him and couldn't bear him being with anyone but him. I wondered if Brendan even knew it himself; I bet he'd never said it to Ste, or this whole fucking charade need never have happened.

Did I tell you I did psychology at uni? So I'm not entirely talking out of my arse.

Noah asked how me and Brendan met. I hadn't been briefed about that, so I told him our eyes met across a crowded room, and Brendan stood out by not trying to. I implied that it was at a gay bar: that bit wasn't true, but the rest of it was.

:::::::

I was out with my mates, it was just a regular pub in Liverpool; one of the lads told me that there was this guy who kept looking at me. I turned around and saw him. He was sat on a stool at the bar, on his own, drinking. He glanced at me, and looked away. Next time we looked at each other, it was for a few seconds.

You know when someone's hurting, it's like they carry their own forcefield with them? That was what he was like. Something had happened to him, I didn't know what, but he looked like the loneliest man in the world.

I said goodnight to my mates, and went and sat next to him: asked him if he was waiting for someone. _You, apparently_, he said, and bought me a drink.

He was just out of hospital. He told me he worked in a club, and someone had come in and taken a swing at him with a baseball bat. That didn't account for the air of defeat around him; it was obviously part of it, but he seemed crushed, I could feel it even through the shield he'd put up.

But fuck, he was gorgeous. I mean, he had this retro tache, but it wasn't some cliché queer thing; it made me think of those Hollywood stars in the old black and white films my gran used to watch on a Sunday afternoon. Properly handsome. He was wearing a suit, and he was tall when he stood up, and lean. Too thin, maybe – that was probably down to the hospital food.

He said he was getting a flight first thing tomorrow, going to see his kids in Ireland. Kids, yeah. I can't say I was surprised: I can usually spot the married ones, the ones who fight what they are. This one was pretty confident though, I'd say he'd been seeing men all along, kids or not; he didn't wait for me to make a move, he just said, _I've got a hotel room, you coming?_ And that was that.

You know the kind of hotel, one of those places where businessmen stop overnight. You wouldn't want to spend any more time there than you had to, in case your soul died; but the bed was comfortable.

He got a bottle of whiskey out of his flight bag, the Irish kind, and I fetched the glass from the bathroom basin. He poured me one, and we drank, Brendan necking it from the bottle. _Scotch is better_, I said. He laughed, asked me where I was from. _Glasgow_, I told him. He took the glass off me when I'd downed it. Put a hand on the back of my head: hesitated, then kissed me.

It was pretty full-on. Hungry, like it had been a while. He had all my clothes off me before I even got his jacket off. It turned out, he didn't want me to undress him; I guess he liked to be in control. He shoved me onto the bed and did it himself. I watched.

He was as fit as fuck. There was nothing artificial about him, he wasn't waxed or anything, he didn't look like he spent hours admiring himself in the mirrors at the gym. But he wasn't a slob: he was powerful and just, you know, very very male.

My jacket was on the bed, and I got my wallet from the pocket to get a condom out, but he beat me to it – he had one of his own. His instinct for self-preservation must've been as strong as mine, and I'm telling you, it was a relief not to have to negotiate it. It's my big sister, see, she works in an STI clinic back home, and she's told me horror stories – complete with pictures from her text books – since I was a kid. She says, if I ever catch anything, she'll kill me. And look, I'm not gonna be turning tricks all my life, so I don't want to be left with a reminder, do I? You'd be surprised how many punters object though. I tell them, there are plenty of boys out there who are skanky and diseased, and if that's what you're after, piss off and find one. Normal guys, guys like Brendan, it's easier, because they're not paying so they don't feel like what they say, goes.

It was nice not even having to have the conversation, so I rewarded him: I took his condom, popped it in my mouth, and put it onto him with my lips and tongue and teeth. It's a skill. And he liked it alright: _Clever boy_, he said.

The sex was a blast. Brendan didn't mess about, he had my legs over his shoulders and got in fast and hard and deep. I think he asked if I was okay a couple of times – it's a bit of a blur, to be honest. I took the rubber off him after, and got a towel and cleaned him, and then we had another whiskey. I could get used to the Irish stuff – just don't tell my dad I said so.

I let him lie back for round two; got him ready with my hands as I put another condom on him, then straddled him, facing his feet. I looked over my shoulder to see his face as I lowered myself onto his cock. He had his eyes shut: I thought he was probably imagining I was someone else, and now, of course, I'm sure as hell it was Ste in his mind.

I watched his toes curl as he came. Then he pulled me down towards him so I was lying with my back on his chest; he held me with one arm across me, his hand round my throat. With the other hand he jerked me off. I can remember the sound of him breathing in my ear, the heat of his breath. I took his hand and licked my cum off it.

We both fell asleep for a bit, then he woke me up and told me I'd better go, cos he had a plane to catch. As I was leaving, he stopped me. _Sean, come here_. And he held me. It was surprising, the way his body softened around me, like he needed to feel some affection. Needed to give it, and get some back. His shirt was unbuttoned, and I kissed his neck.

He asked for my number.

:::::::

So, Noah asked how we met, and when I said, _He stood out by not trying to_, I put my hand on Brendan's leg, like the boyfriend I was meant to be. He brushed me off though, and offered to get us more drinks. Noah said no, he'd get them, and I made some blatant flirty remark to him that I made sure Ste heard. I was having a ball. I said to Brendan to let Noah go if he wanted, so we could have some time alone together, and I groped his thigh again. I didn't have to look at Ste to know that he was seething. _You jealous? _I said. He denied it: _You're welcome to him_, meaning anything but.

Ste stalked off after Noah, and as soon as we were on our own, Brendan grabbed my hand from off his leg and crushed it so hard I thought he was gonna break my fingers. _Keep your hands off me. Stop pawing me. And smile._ Jesus, I don't scare easily, but he scared the shit out of me. I smiled for the benefit of our audience. _Attaboy_, Brendan said, and went off to work the door or something.

When the boys came back I brazenly flirted with Noah, right in front of Ste. I just had a feeling he'd be a pushover: it takes one to know one. And then when Brendan came back I grabbed Noah for a dance, leaving the other two together. When we came back, they'd disappeared; it seemed to me that Brendan didn't really need my help, he could have just talked to Ste, told him how he felt, if he'd just realised that was the kind of power he had. But I had a job to do, so I sat Noah down and we drank some more champagne. I whispered to him, right up close in his ear, what I'd like to do with a boy we'd seen on the dance floor; he told me I was depraved. I was snaring him. So then I wound him up, asking about Brendan and Ste; telling him I reckoned Brendan only wanted me there to make Ste jealous; remarking on how Ste couldn't keep his eyes off Brendan. Ste, Brendan. Brendan, Ste. It was all about them. I felt a bit sorry for Noah: he must have known he was second best, all I was doing was confirming it.

I'd got to him so much that by the time I told him not to be the kind of guy who gets walked over, and suggested he give Ste a taste of his own medicine, Noah barely hesitated, and we left together.

He worked in this cheap-looking spa up the road, and I asked him to show me; there was an outdoor hot tub, and I just stripped off and jumped in. Noah followed my lead: he was such a mug. Then I heard Brendan's voice, and Ste's; I couldn't hear what they were saying at first, but it was an argument, and they were getting nearer. So I scooched over to Noah. _Ste's a lucky fella_, I said, _having Brendan and then you. I've only had Brendan, so, how about it?_ And he moved in for a kiss, just as the other two appeared.

Ste looked gutted. I felt bad, alright? Noah went running after him in a towel. Brendan just wandered off; I got dressed and followed him back to the club because I'd left my jacket in the office there. He let me get it, and told me he'd pay me next day when I came back for my car. He seemed preoccupied, so I didn't argue, I just got a cab back to my hotel.

I didn't sleep too well. It played on my mind, messing with people's lives like that. Hey, I'm a tart with a heart, who knew?

:::::::

Next morning I packed my bag, checked out, got the bus down to Hollyoaks and texted Brendan to say I was coming.

I stopped at the car to stash my bag in it, then went to the club.

Brendan was sat on his own: he barely looked at me. I said to him, _I did a good job, right?_ I watched him counting my money onto the table in front of him, but it came up short. I asked him why, and he said – get this – _The deal was, you come on to Noah, not me._ I asked him how I was meant to convince as his boyfriend without any contact, and he said it wasn't his problem: _Now take the money off the table, before I take it back for good._

What an arsehole. _Thanks for nothing_, I said. I took my cash and walked away. Brendan's parting shot was, _Use the back door, like all the rough trade._

:::::::

I went and found a place to have a coffee and something to eat, and to calm down.

It pissed me off. I'd done everything that man asked me to do, and yet he skimped me a hundred quid for not reading his mind. Well, I could undo what I'd done, or try to. I finished my burger, then asked around until I found someone who knew where I could find Ste. He was sat outside a pub having a pint, and he wasn't exactly pleased to see me.

I told him Noah was a good guy; I said it was all a set-up, that Brendan had paid me to do what I did. He thought I was lying, but when I said that Brendan had cut my fee because I'd dared to touch him in front of Ste, the penny dropped. He must have recognised it as something Brendan would do, and he looked devastated. I said sorry again, and left him to it. He was a lucky bastard, having someone who wanted him as much as Brendan did; maybe he'd appreciate it one day.

Driving home to Liverpool, I thought about it all. Ste might get back with Noah now, just to punish Brendan, but it couldn't last: Noah wasn't to be trusted, he was weak and so easy to tempt. And Brendan and Ste had this connection, even I could see that; inevitably they'd get together again, all I'd done by grassing on Brendan was delay it. But it would fuck Brendan's plans up for a while, and he deserved it.

Then I got to thinking, why was I surprised that Brendan had treated me like that at the end? I'd found out, the second time I met him, that he could change in an instant.

:::::::

The second time, yeah.

It was around the end of May, nearly two months after the first time. He rang me out of the blue in the middle of the day, said he had a few hours to kill in Liverpool. _Feel like hooking up? _Yep. My flatmates were out, so I gave him my address, told him to come round.

He was agitated when he arrived. Uncommunicative, but in a different way to last time: less sad, more angry. I offered him a drink but he said no, as he was driving – he was going to see his kids again, but getting the ferry this time, not flying. So we had a cup of tea in the kitchen. I've got to say, making smalltalk was a strain with Brendan in this mood, so I said, _Come on_, and we headed for my bedroom. He didn't make his move though, just paced about a bit. _What is it, Brendan?_ I said. _Boyfriend trouble?_

He shot towards me, threw me against the wall, pinned me there with a hand in the middle of my chest, all his weight leaning on me; the other hand grabbing me by the hair. _You think you know me, boy? Do you think you know me?_

Fucking hell. I've been knocked about a bit, it's an occupational hazard, but I won't have it in my private life. I mean, I don't mind it rough, but I won't be battered, and I told Brendan that: shouted it in his face. And he let go of me, stepped away. Looked shocked, utterly, like he'd come to his senses. Said sorry.

I didn't know at the time what was going on in Brendan's life, but I'm guessing now that it was Ste-related, and serious. All I knew then was that he was mightily fucked up, and I felt for him. So I kissed him, and undid his jeans, and his cock hardened in my hands. Then Brendan was back in the game, and my clothes were scattered on the floor, and I was face down on the bed being fucked senseless. He lay on his back when he was finished, panting, sweating: we both were. And then he put an arm around me, pulled me against him; lay with his eyes closed just stroking my arm, up and down, up and down. I said something to him – I can't remember what – and he tensed and shook his head: _Don't speak._

When it was time, Brendan went for a shower and got dressed. I saw him to the door. He smoothed my hair with his fingers. _You're okay, Sean, yeah?_

:::::::

If Brendan ever called again and asked me to get involved in some doomed, fucked up scheme to sort his love life out, I'd say no, no way. But what if my phone rang, and it was, _I've got a few hours to kill in Liverpool, Sean..._ What would I say then?

What do you think?


End file.
